It was nine in the morning, I was hungover, and an old dude was pestering me about an expired coupon for paper towels.
"I'm telling you, I tried to use this last week before it expired, and the cashier wouldn't take it! So I'm trying to use it now!"
"Sir, it's not valid. I can't accept it."
"Did you even listen to a word I said?"
Sir, please vacate the premises before I blow chunks all over your elderly loafers is what I wanted to say, but company policy probably would have advised otherwise.
I watched Lynette stifle giggles behind the irate, balding man. An idea formed in my head.
"If you don't accept this, I'm going to call your boss and tell 'em how rude–"
"Sir, I see what you're saying, and I'd like to take your side. However, I don't have the authority to make decisions on these matters. You'll need to talk to my shift manager."
Lynette's amused expression disintegrated immediately.
"Fine, fine, where's your manager?"
"Right behind you, sir," I said, pointing to Lynette as her eyes widened in horror. "She'll be happy to assist you."
It was petty, but casting the old guy away made me feel a lot less nauseous. Not to imply I didn't throw up in the employee bathroom later anyway, because I totally did.
"I'll kill you for that," Lynette threatened after the customer left with his full-price paper towels.
"Please do," I moaned. "Death would be a great alternative to feeling like this."
She folded her arms over her chest. "Can't believe you went to the bar at two AM when you had an 8:30 shift. Y'know, I could get you in so much shit."
"But are you going to?"
"No, because you could get me into shit for hosting that after party. Nadia would murder me in my sleep."
The Vita-Mart boss/overlord, Nadia Iman, liked me– apparently, that made me one of the few. She tried not to make many appearances at the Mart, but the last time she did, I'd been on shift.
"Nice bagging technique," she'd told me. "You have experience, though. I knew you'd be good."
"Please, Nadia. Working at a campus convenience store is so much less important and thrilling than being here at Vita-Mart," I said, tone smooth as butter.
"You're a kiss-ass," she stated bluntly, "but I like it. Keep it up and maybe you can take her job." She gestured to Lynette, who didn't seem pleased to hear that.
Presently, I figured now was as good a time as ever to clear things up. "Could I also get you into shit for that prank last night?"
Lynette wrinkled her forehead. "Prank? What do you– oh, yeah. 'Prank,'" she drew out, making air quotes with her fingers. "Yeah, I guess I might get in a little trouble for that. You should probably invest in some lip balm, by the way."
"Hey! My lips always get chapped this time of year, and–" She giggled. I sighed. "Thanks for the tip. Was your roommate effectively 'pranked' or what?
She blinked. "You didn't ask him?"
"Ask who?"
"My roommate. Ezra." My chest tightened at the sound of his name. "I thought you guys talked, like, all night."
A sensation, separate from the pre-existing nausea, gripped my stomach. "I didn't know you guys live together. He never mentioned it," I told her.
"Maybe he's embarrassed by me," she said with a chuckle. "Which he should be. I mean, I made out with a kid last night."
YOU ARE READING
Broken Carts ✔️
Romance(M/M, COMPLETE) After Milo is forced to drop out and work at his hometown grocery store, his jaded coworker becomes interested in him. Together, they lose themselves in the beginnings of their alcohol-soaked downward spiral.
